


On the Wall

by Delphi



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Established Relationship, Flogging, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-05
Updated: 2003-12-05
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/pseuds/Delphi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Severus stares at the wall and wills himself not to say another word."</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pornish Pixies community on LJ. Challenge: _Come Shots_

Severus stares at the wall and wills himself not to say another word.

Oh-so-smug from just over his shoulder: "Ah-ah. You're going to bite your lip off, lad."

The flogger falls again, like a lick of fire across his thighs, and his shoulders tremble, and the sound he makes in reply is like nothing he could ever have imagined passing his lips. It is low and needy, slithering up from somewhere deep in his belly. An animal sound.

He gnaws on his lip again.

"Stop it," the voice hisses in his ear, and Severus scrambles for the words.

"Ah...may I...?"

"No. Patience, lad."

There is the damp touch of sweaty palms over the place where the flogger last kissed him, and he nearly whimpers, clamping down tightly around his cock in an attempt to stave off the torturous relief churning in his balls.

"Snape!"

"What!" he growls, then yelps when the flogger curls around his hip with a snap.

"You're a filthy cheat. Stop that."

His cock twitches and trembles in his grip, and he sounds like a puling first year when he mewls: "But..."

"This is a _lesson_, Professor Snape."

He tentatively—oh fuck, achingly—begins to stroke himself again. He's half coming already, the head of his cock dribbling semen in pitiful white drips.

"Oh, God..." he murmurs. "Oh fuck, please?"

He waits for the flogger to strike again, but there is only a small, slick noise behind him, and then his cheeks are being spread and he feels that first nudge...

"Filthy little slut."

...and he shoots off in a rush of delirium the moment that the oiled handle is forced inside his body. His seed splatters audibly against the wall, his knees nearly buckling under him. He comes for what seems like an eternity, pulse after pulse, shivering helplessly at the rush of hot breath against the back of his neck.

When the shocks have finally faded, a callused hand wraps around his spent cock, and Severus hisses in pain. He squeezes his eyes shut, the first desperate, humiliated tears streaming down.

"Tsk tsk, we've made quite the mess, haven't we."

Those hands move over him, and Severus allows himself to be pushed to his knees, lets his face be shoved up against sticky mess on the bricks.

"Filthy..."

And as he opens his mouth and begins to lick, he is hard pressed to keep the utter adoration from his eyes.

He shivers with pleasure. Mad old squib or not, Mister Filch is an _artist_.


End file.
